If Love Is Insanity
by booksdefygravity
Summary: "If love is insanity, I'm crazy for you." A collection of romantic drabbles, oneshots, and bits of fluff. A large variety of pairings, such as: James/Lily, Pansy/Hermione, Luna/Draco, Remus/Tonks, Hermione/Luna, Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Harry, Ginny/Gabrielle, etc. Canon, fanon, het, slash, and femmeslash all represented. No cous(incest.)
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is one of my personal favorites, so I'd love to know what you think of it!**

* * *

_Prompt: Luscious_

* * *

The sun was falling on her face. She opened her eyes and saw that James was awake, propped up on one elbow.

He kissed her on the forehead. "Good morning, beautiful," he said.

She smiled up at him. "Beautiful? You can't do any better than that?" she said teasingly.

"Good morning, exquisite," he said, laughing.

"That makes it sound like I'm made of sparkly glass. _Look at this exquisite chandelier! Look at this exquisite candlestick!_"

"Fine, fine," he said. "Good morning, radiant."

"Yay! I always wanted to be the sun," she said, rolling her eyes.

"What's the matter with being the sun?"

"It's a giant ball of flaming gas. A bit like you, actually."

"Haha," he said. "Very funny."

"Try again," she said, snuggling closer to him.

"Good morning, luscious."

"Luscious!" she exclaimed. "That's even worse. It sounds like I'm a fruit."

"You're impossible to please," he said, kissing her again. "But either way, good morning, Lily Potter."

"Lily Potter," she said, smiling. "Now that I think I can get used to."

"You had better," said James teasingly. "As of yesterday, you are officially stuck with it."

"And there's no other name in the world that I'd rather be stuck with," said Lily.

"Well, then, let me say it again."

She closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep.

The sunlight was falling on her face. She opened her eyes and saw that James was awake, propped up on one elbow.

He kissed her on the forehead. "Good morning, Lily Potter."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I've never tried a drabble collection before, so this should be interesting. Please R&R, and feel free to recommend any pairings you would like to see. Here it is:**

* * *

_Prompt: Glad rags_

* * *

"Hello?"

Absorbed in the pair of robes she was embroidering, Parvati hadn't noticed that someone had come in.

She looked up.

"Seamus!" she said, surprised. "I haven't seen you in forever!"

Seamus smiled. "I didn't know you were working here." He looked around at the colorful robes of Gladrags Wizardwear.

Parvati smiled. "Well, here I am."

"It's always nice to see old Hogwarts friends," he said. "How about a hug?"

She stepped out from behind the counter and wrapped her arms around him. To her surprise, she felt a tingle run through her.

After a moment, Seamus pulled back, but his eyes were still on hers. He suddenly had a very good idea why Dean had recommended Seamus get his new dress robes at Gladrags.

_I'm going to kill him, _thought Seamus. And then, looking into Parvati's warm brown eyes, he thought, _Actually, maybe not. _


	3. Chapter 3

_Prompt: Whatever_

* * *

"Alicia," said Demelza, her voice low. "Alicia, please listen to me—

"I will not listen to you!" shrieked Alicia. "I understand! You don't want to do this anymore! Fine! "

"Of course I want to be with you," said Demelza. "I love—

"Don't say you love me," said Alicia, her voice quiet. "If you loved me, you would show it. You wouldn't be ashamed of the two of us."

"But I do," said Demelza, desperately. "I do love you, Alicia. But I know how people will react. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Whatever," said Alicia. "I don't care anymore. I don't care at all. I'm done." She turned and stormed away.

"Please!" shouted Demelza. "Alicia, please, _please _come back!"

But she was already gone.


	4. Chapter 4

_Prompt: Caramelized_

The kitchen was filled with a delicious smell.

Lavender checked the pot. "The sugar still hasn't caramelized."

"So what do we do?" asked Dean.

Lavender laughed. "We wait, silly."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "And what are we going to do while we wait?"

Lavender moved a little closer and ran her fingers through his hair. "Oh, I'm sure we'll think of something."


	5. Chapter 5

_Prompt: After the incident with the others was resolved, I/he/she/we/they felt a lot better._

* * *

His fingers twisted through her hair. He loved the color of it, bright and red against his pale fingertips. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "I love your hair," he said.

She offered him a half-smile.

"What's wrong?" he asked, recognizing the expression.

"Nothing," she said, laying her head down in his lap.

"Rosie," he said sternly. "I can tell when something's wrong. Come on, tell me."

She sighed. "I was just thinking about my family."

"This again?" he said gently.

"I hate the thought that they disapprove of us," she said quietly.

"But they don't," he said. "I know they never wanted you to date a Malfoy, but they're okay with it now."

"Not all of them," she said, thinking of her father's face when they had told him the truth.

"Rose," he said. "After the... _incident_ with the others was resolved, I felt a lot better. I know James was a bit mean about it, but he's come around, and now we're all friends. But you haven't stopped worrying about this." He was referring to the massive fight the they had had with the Weasley and Potter cousins.

Rose sat up. "I just want them to accept it," she said. "I want them to be happy for us."

"But their opinions don't matter!" exclaimed Scorpius. "I wouldn't care if James and your dad threatened me or forbade you from seeing me or used _obliviate _to make you forget who I am. I don't care what anyone thinks. Why do you?"

"I don't know," she said unhappily.

"Promise me you'll try to get over it," he said.

She looked into his eyes. They were grey, but not cold. She had never seen anyone look at her with eyes like that, so full of love.

"I promise," she said. "I'll try." She leaned against him.

"I know you will," he whispered into her hair. "Of course you will."


	6. Chapter 6

_Prompt: Salubrious. Note: Salubrious means "favorable to health."_

* * *

She hadn't thought it was possible.

The fluttering feeling at every touch, the nervous beat of her heart—was it really possible to love someone that much?

Surely love that deep and impenetrable wasn't salubrious. It probably wasn't good for her heart to race so often. And yet it did so, again and again, at every brush of golden hair against milk-chocolate skin, every word spoken in that strange and beautiful accent, every moment the blue eyes met the brown.

Sometimes she wondered why it had taken her so long to accept what she wanted in life. Perhaps it was the endless failures of boys that finally made Cho admit and give in to the truth.

Or maybe it was just Gabrielle.


	7. Chapter 7

_Prompt: Antiques_

* * *

Draco sighed in annoyance. "I can't believe you want to go in _another _antiques store," he said.

"They're fun!" exclaimed Astoria. She gave him a playful nudge. "Besides, if I let _you _be in charge of the decorating, everything in our house would be gray, metal, and horribly modern."

"What's the matter with modern?"

"I'm old-fashioned," said Astoria, smiling. "Like a princess in a Muggle fairy tale. Besides, I want us to spend our lives someplace cozy."

"Cozy?"

"Warm. Colorful. Someplace we can raise children," said Astoria.

_Children. _"Fine, fine," he said.

Astoria grinned and led him into the antiques shop.

"I must be insane," muttered Draco, as they began to examine _more _dusty furniture.

"Or you really love me," teased Astoria.

Draco watched as she ran her hands over furniture, wiping away the dust, examining every curve and corner of the wood.

"Or that," he agreed.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: R&R and you will be showered with imaginary roses and poetry, because I love people who review more than any other people in the entire universe. (With the obvious exception of my family. Sorry.) **

**I hope you enjoy this one, written specifically for ****_thebronzesickle._**

* * *

_Prompt: Besmirch. Note: Means "To damage the reputation of someone or something."_

* * *

It was a beautiful day at Hogwarts. The wind was whistling through the trees, the springtime flowers blooming, and the sunlight was sparkling on the lake.

But the two girls sitting by the lake did not notice this. They had other things on their minds.

Together, they lay in the grass, concealed by a patch of flowering bushes they had conjured up. Fingers entwined, they stared up at the sky.

"I can't believe we almost have enough signatures," said one.

"I can't believe how long it's taken," said the other. "I mean, really. It's time we're allowed to be who we are without besmirching ourselves. And it's certainly time we're allowed to get married without going all the way to America. I can't wait to rub it everyone's faces when the Ministry uses our petition to create the new law."

Pansy smiled. Only Hermione would use a word like "besmirched." But that was one of the things she loved about her. She was smart and she didn't pretend to be stupid, as Pansy had done for so many years.

Now, it was hard to believe that she had done that: hiding her books under her mattress so no one knew she liked to read, deliberately scoring badly on tests so no one would be jealous of her, and, more than anything, making fun of Hermione, the only person at Hogwarts who actually cared about learning as much as she did.

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Pansy had been one of three seventh-year Slytherin students to return to Hogwarts, and the only girl. It was that, more than anything, that had driven the two of them together.

As their mutual hatred turned into grudging respect and then friendship, they began to realize how much they had in common. They loved the same books, the same music, and the same classes. They liked lavender tea, mistrusted Divination, and enjoyed jumping in leaf piles. And finally, one heady, exhilarating, wonderful night, when Pansy had dared to kiss Hermione, they had discovered another similarity and their best-kept secret.

Overwhelmed by the memory of that night, Pansy leaned over, kissed Hermione on the forehead, and spoke impulsively. "I love you."

It was the first time she had said it, the first time she had dared to voice what she had been thinking for months.

There was a beat, a prolonged moment of silence. And then Hermione spoke.

"I love you, too," she whispered, and wrapped her arms around her best friend, her girlfriend, the person she could say everything to. "I love you so much." She ran her fingers through Pansy's dark-brown, pixie-style haircut, her rebellion against her mother, and stared into her ocean-colored eyes. "I could never love anyone as much as you."

And when they kissed, they knew that no law would ever prevent them from spending the rest of their lives together.

Nor would anything else.


	9. Chapter 9

_Prompt: Walk_

* * *

They do not use words lightly.

She has had them thrown against her too many times, felt the sharp sting of them, seen the bruises they leave against her heart. She knows she is skilled at healing herself. She will treat her own wounds, vanish her own scars, remind her own lungs to breathe, because that is what she does. But she knows that not everyone is so skilled at that, and so she is careful with her words.

He is her polar opposite, the king of words abused. He has used words to maim and kill, slither and deceive, dance his way in and out of labyrinths. Rarely has he felt the weight of words used against him, dragging him down, weights tied to his ankles in a sea of sharks. But his words had been the weights, and he has joined the sharks and seen the victims drown and bleed and bleed and drown. He is tired of turning people into victims.

She is the sun, determined to shine through the thunderstorms. She gives light effortlessly, endlessly, knowing who needs it.

He is the moon, absorbing and trying to reflect her light, and he will never shine as brightly or give as much. But when her spirits fade and she sinks into darkness, he is there, to aid and comfort , to glow in her stead.

They do not use words lightly.

It is good, then, that words are not needed between them. Instead, they walk, roaming endlessly, together. They walk until they know the sound of each other's footsteps pounding against empty roads and the beat of each other's hearts in quiet places.

But when they do speak, they still use their words lightly.

_Luna, _he says.

_Draco, _she says.

They do not need many syllables to understand that this means _I love you._


	10. Chapter 10

_Prompt: Serendipity. _

* * *

For what felt like the thousandth time, Ginny ran her hands over her hair. She felt like a complete idiot. Not only was she wearing a ridiculously short, low-cut, turquoise dress that probably made her look like she was seasick, she was also sitting alone in a Muggle restaurant, Serendipity 3.

But that wasn't even the worst part.

She could not _believe _she had let Hermione talk her into this. Hermione had recently discovered a business called _MagicalConnections, Inc. _Apparently the company used a combination of magic and networking skills to find people's soul mates.

Somewhat unorthodoxly, MagicalConnections had told Ginny that she had _three _soul mates. Unfortunately, Soul Mate #1 was already engaged, so she was waiting at Serendipity 3 for Soul Mate #2, who, supposedly, she would recognize because they would be "incredibly handsome, wearing white, and the other half of your soul." She supposed the "wearing white" bit was mildly helpful.

Ginny suddenly realized that someone was walking towards her table. With a start, she recognized Blaise Zabini. How annoying. The last thing she wanted to do was deal with some stupid Slytherin while trying to connect with her soul mate. It was strange, though, that Zabini was wearing a white button-down shirt, a sharp contrast against his dark skin.

He had reached her table, leaving her no time to think.

"Damn," was the first thing he said. "You know, they said 'wearing a turquoise dress,' but I didn't think it would be an unbelievably hot turquoise dress."

"What?" blurted Ginny.

Blaise slid smoothly into the seat across from her. "You look good, Weasley."

"Not to be rude or anything," she said, "but that seat's reserved for my soul mate."

"Here I am," he said. "Wearing white, as promised."

Ginny blinked. He was wearing white, and he had said the thing about the turquoise dress… oh, no.

"No way," she said. "There must be some kind of mistake. There's absolutely _no way _my soul mate is a Slytherin."

"Come on, Weasley," he said. Turning to the waitress, he said "Two glasses of the lemon-infused champagne, please."

Ginny opened her mouth to say that she could order her own drink, thank you very much, when she remembered that lemon-infused champagne was her favorite drink.

She eyed Zabini suspiciously.

"How did you know that?" she demanded.

"Know what?" he said.

"What my favorite drink is."

"I just ordered two glasses of _my _favorite drink," said Zabini. "See, we have something in common."

"You're a Slytherin."

"Opposites attract."

"So you're the opposite of a dead squirrel?"

"Are you calling yourself a dead squirrel?"

"You're not attracting me."

"Really? Because you're definitely attracting me, and I get the feeling that this is a two-way vibe."

"Why don't I just leave right now?"

"Come on, Weasley," said Blaise. "You're attractive, I'm attractive, we have champagne, and the night is young. Why should we waste it?"

"You're just trying to sleep with me," said Ginny.

"You're my Soul Mate #1," said Blaise earnestly. "I'm trying to get to know you, have several deep conversations, get engaged, and then sleep with you."

"Get _engaged_?"

"I'm not going to sleep with my soul mate without marrying them. That would be ridiculous."

"Well, you're only my Soul Mate #2, so don't act all pleased with yourself."

"In all honesty," said Blaise, "you look gorgeous. I like the dress."

Ginny opened her mouth to retort, and then paused. She took a moment to absorb his appearance: skin like dark marble, chocolaty eyes, and a very finely shaped mouth, a mouth that was certainly very good at kissing.

"You don't look too bad yourself," she admitted.

"See!" said Blaise triumphantly. "That wasn't that hard. Now will you please drink some champagne?"

"What, are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Who are you, Mad-Eye Moody? What's with all the suspicion? You must have trust issues or something."

Very deliberately, Ginny picked up the glass of champagne and sipped it.

Blaise grinned. "That's more like it. You know, you should do your hair like that more often. It really emphasizes your cheekbones."

Ginny felt a faint blush spread across her cheeks.

"Aw, you're blushing," said Blaise. "That's adorable."

_You want to play that game, Zabini? Well, I can play that game, too._

Ginny reached across the table and straightened the color of his shirt. "And you should wear white more often. It looks good on you."

He flashed her a charming smile. "I know what you're trying to do."

She flashed him a charming smile, too. "Oh, do you?"

Blaise smiled even wider. "So, can I kiss you yet?"

"Oh, I don't think so," said Ginny. "I think you'll need a lot more witty banter, and possibly a second date."

"You want to go on a second date with me!" Blaise exclaimed triumphantly.

"Well, we are soul mates."

"I bet every guy in this restaurant wishes you were their soul mate."

"That was incredibly cheesy."

"_I _am incredibly cheesy. Also, incredibly handsome." He gave her a ridiculously flirtatious look, eyelashes fluttering dramatically.

He was completely insane.

But then again, so was she.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN:** **Review, all those who enter here! Please? It would be lovely. Anyways, here it is.**

* * *

_Prompt: Fire_

* * *

The sky is cloudy tonight, but he watches it anyways. It is his habit, watching this sky, watching for the moon that pulls him like the tide.

He glances down at his watch and frowns. The next guard is late. In the ugly house across from him, Harry is surely fast asleep. Remus wishes they could take him to Grimmauld Place now, but Dumbledore wants them to wait another few weeks.

Right now, however, he is wondering who the next guard is supposed to be. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a blank piece of paper, and taps it three time with his wand, muttering under his breath.

Immediately, a list of names appears. From midnight to three a.m. is Remus Lupin, and from three to six is…

He frowns. Who is _Nymphadora Tonks? _

There is a faint _pop _and a woman appears in front of him. She has spiky pink hair, like bubblegum, bright blue eyes, and pale skin dotted with golden freckles. She wears a dress made of black leather, shorter in the front and longer in the back, black fishnets, combat boots, and a black leather jacket covered in small, sparkly, silver studs.

"Hi!" she says, brightly and cheerfully, as though this is not an extremely covert meeting in the dead of night.

"Ssh!" hisses Remus.

"Oops, sorry," she whispers back, pulling out her wand.

Remus eyes her appearance. "You're a part of the Order?" he says mildly.

"Yup, that's me," she says. "Auror extraordinaire!"

He raises his eyebrows ever so slightly. "You're an Auror." It is not a question, but she answers anyways.

"Yeah, passed the test about a month ago." She runs her fingers through her hair, making a strange expression, and suddenly her hair is bright turquoise and falls to her waist.

"Metamorphmagus?" asks Remus, mildly impressed.

"Yeah. Oh, I'm Tonks, by the way."

"Remus," he says.

"Nice to meet you," she says, twirling her wand in her fingers. Bright green sparks fly from the end of it, hit Remus's robes, and suddenly, he is on fire.

"Augumenti!" she shrieks. "Augumenti, Augmenti! Sorry!"

Her charm has put out the fire, but now he is soaked. He is utterly bemused as to why this crazy Goth chick is in the Order.

"Ssh," he says. "Don't want to wake up the Muggles."

"Oh, it's fine," she says airily. "Muggles sleep like rocks. I remember this one time—

"I need to go," says Remus curtly.

"God, you're tense," she says. "I think you need to learn to relax a little bit. You know, take a few breaks, go out for lunch. Tell you what, you and I should go out for lunch sometime. Are you free Monday around noon?"

"I—yes—wait, what?"

"Great!" she chirps. "Leaky Cauldron? I'll see you there! Now go home and sleep. You've got these giant circles under your eyes."

He has no idea what is going on, but he prepares to Apparate anyways.

"Oh, hold on a second," she says, approaching him. She reaches up and brushes his hair to the side. "That's better. You really shouldn't let your hair get so crooked. It's annoying. Well, goodnight."

"I—goodnight," he says, turning on the spot. He has to leave now, get back to Grimmauld Place, and make his report.

The world blurs before him. The last thing he sees is her face, bright and smiling, like a flame in the darkness.


	12. Chapter 12

_Prompt: Stag night_

* * *

It was near three in the morning when Draco was finally able to escape. He had had to wait several hours before Harry had gotten drunk enough to not notice one of his guests was looking.

Draco grinned. He had never imagined that he would be present at Harry's stag night. But Hermione and time had brought them together and forced them to be friends.

Quietly, not wanting to wake Hermione, he unlocked the door of their flat and stepped inside. To his surprise, she was lying on the couch and reading a book, her brown hair spilling down her back.

She smiled when she saw him. "How was the stag night?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Predictably insane. I would have much rather stayed home with you."

She sat up and held out her arms. "Well, we're both here now."

In a moment, they were snuggled together on the couch, their arms wrapped around each other, her head resting against his chest.

"Why are you still up?" he murmured into her hair.

"I wanted to see you," she replied.

"I love you," he said.

"Love you too," she whispered back.

The night was quiet, and they had each other.

They would sleep peacefully.


	13. Chapter 13

_Prompt: Piano_

* * *

Hermione is glad they brought the piano in. The house is too empty, too silent, too _new. _It is not yet a home to them.

At first, she thought it was ridiculous to bring in the piano. It is heavy, and there are boxes to be unpacked. But Luna insisted, and now, watching her fingers dance elegantly across the keys, Hermione is glad she gave in.

She sits next to Luna, resting her head on her shoulder, and closes her eyes, surrounding herself with Luna's music.

No, this place is not yet a home to them.

But it will be, thinks Hermione, as Luna fills the empty rooms with music. It will be.


	14. Chapter 14

#14

**AN: Also written for the Variety of Prompts challenge. **

* * *

_Prompt: Love Hurts_

_Prompt: Bottle_

* * *

Alone in the girl's bathroom, Lavender gulps down a mouthful of butterbeer—or perhaps it is vodka. Parvati has a hidden stash for parties and breakups, but Lavender doesn't know which one she grabbed. Her mouth is filled with a bitter taste, no matter what she drinks, and her eyes are too full of tears to read the label on the bottle.

She can't believe that it is over between her and Ron. _Over. _Now he'll probably start dating Hermione—smart, daring, adventurous Hermione, a true Gryffindor. Not like Lavender. The Sorting Hat should have put her in Hufflepuff. _She's _loyal, even if her boyfriends aren't.

Sobbing, she drinks a little more. She and Ron were a good couple—she's certain of it. They spent all of their time together—eating breakfast, visiting Hogsmeade, snogging in the Three Broomsticks, snogging in the common room, snogging in empty classrooms… tearfully, she remembers one time McGonagall caught them and threatened to jinx them if they came back…

Lavender's mother, the veteran of three divorces, always gave Lavender the same advice about dating: _love hurts. _

She'd say it like it was a piece of advice. _Boys are nothing but trouble, honey. Love hurts._

Until Ron, Lavender had never been in love. She's liked Ron for ages and ages… and then, _finally, _they got together…

_Love hurts, _she tells herself. _Love hurts. _She tries to convince herself that it's true, tells herself she'll never make that mistake again. _Love hurts._

But, deep down, Lavender knows that's not true. Love is wonderful.

It's the end of love that hurts.


	15. Chapter 15

_Prompt: Pocket watch_

_Prompt: Smugness_

* * *

Walking back from her Transfiguration class, Narcissa Lestrange heard the murmurings of familiar voices.

"Come on, do it!"

"No way."

"Coward."

"I'm no Gryffindor."

"That doesn't mean you have to be a sissy. Just do it."

"Do what?" asked Narcissa, stepping around the corner.

Lucius and Severus jumped.

"I bet Severus my gold pocket watch that he wouldn't smash that chandelier," said Lucius, pointing at the ceiling. "But he won't do it."

Lucius was well-known for these pranks. He would never commit the act of wrongdoing himself, but bullying younger students into doing it for him was no problem.

Narcissa saw Severus's pale, miserable face and took pity on him. Furthermore, she saw the unbearable smugness on Lucius's face. He was most definitely enjoying this. He needed to be taught a lesson. Also, it _was _a nice pocket watch.

"For Merlin's sake, Lucius," she snapped. "He's only a fourth year. He probably doesn't even know how. Besides, I bet _you_ don't have the guts to do it. I bet your gold pocket watch."

Lucius glared at her. She stood up straight. He was sixteen, a year older than her, but she was tall for her age, and she knew it bothered him.

Lucius knew he was cornered. Grimly, he lifted his wand and pointed it at the chandelier, hesitating.

"Wait," said Narcissa.

"What is it?" said Lucius.

Narcissa, who had excellent hearing, heard approaching footsteps. "Nothing," she said.

Once again, Lucius raised his wand.

At that exact same moment, McGonagall came around the corner—five minutes after the end of Narcissa's transfiguration class, just like she did every day, as Narcissa very well knew.

"Severo," whispered Narcissa.

The chandelier came crashing to the ground, Lucius's wand still outstretched. Slowly, he looked from the chandelier to McGonagall to Narcissa.

"MALFOY!" shrieked McGonagall. "Detention!"

"But I didn't—

"I don't want to hear it!"

Narcissa grinned at Lucius. "See you later!" she said cheerfully.

And she would see him later.

She needed to collect that pocket watch.


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: I realize that this is basically all Hermione, but I think it is an important part of the Hermione/Ron relationship, so I consider it to be a pairing. Also done for the Variety of Prompts Challenge.**

* * *

_Prompt: Retrospectively_

_Prompt: Mirror_

* * *

Alone, gazing in the mirror, it is easy to forget how she got here. If she stares long enough, her own image blurs before her, and she can imagine that someone completely different is staring back at her.

Different choices would have led her different places. She knows that now. But as she focuses in on her eyes, warm and brown, staring into them trying to view them from someone else's point of view, she sees no hidden sadness. Sometimes she doubts it, but she is happy with her choices.

Retrospectively, things could have been so different. A troll subdued by a professor, a Deluminator seized by the Ministry, and her daughter could have easily had green eyes, not blue.

Retrospectively, things always look different. Choices seem a little more foolish, anger a little more shameful.

But Hermione does not dwell on the past, nor spend much time looking in the mirror. But when she does look, she sees what she expects to see:

A mother of two children.

A witch of deadly skill.

An Auror with an incredible reputation.

Hermione Jean Weasley.

A woman without regrets.


	17. Chapter 17

Prompt: Forever

Prompt: Playing card

* * *

Forever, he says. Forever is a long time. And love…love is like picking a playing card from the deck. Maybe you're the queen of hearts.

Hold on, he says. Wait.

I can't wait to love you, she says. I can't wait forever.

Because love is like a deck of cards. So many choices, still not enough. Never the card you need.

I could wait forever, he says. I'm asking you to wait until the war is over. A few months, a year. What's the difference, when we want to spend forever together?

(Maybe she doesn't, though.)

Because forever is a long time, and you don't know which card you're going to get.

(And she's been waiting too long.)

So go back, he says. Go back to the boy with charcoal hair and emerald eyes.

(But she always preferred the blonde.)

You go back, she says. Back to your perfect serpent girl, and I'll stay with the lions.

(But he always liked the red so much better.)

So maybe they will wait forever.

(Maybe the cards are stacked perfectly this time.)

Then again, maybe not.

(Maybe they're both done waiting.)


	18. Chapter 18

Pairing Diversity Prompt_: _There is nothing like a good dose of another woman to make a man appreciate his wife.

Percy Weasley sighed irritably. People may think that being the Senior Secretary to the Minister was all fun and games, but it certainly was not. First, Minister Shacklebolt ran everything very strictly. Second, Percy worked very long hours. And third, most of those hours were spent talking to people who "needed" to see the Minister but weren't actually important enough to get an appointment.

Take today, for example. Looking down at his list, he saw:

_Luna Lovegood: Discussion of the Rotfang conspiracy_

_Emily Swanelo: Hogwarts Care of Magical Creatures class complaint_

_Blaise Zabini: Petition for the promotion of unbelievably hot guys_

_Hermione Granger: Discussion of house-elf rights._

Honestly. Who did these people think they were?

Just then, there was a light tap on the door.

"Come in," he said wearily.

"Oh, hello," said a voice. "This is nice, isn't it? I suppose those curtains are a little ugly, but they'd be rather excellent at keeping away Nargles, wouldn't they? Nargles hate beige, you know. Well, I don't _see _any enchanted floss, so maybe you're not a conspirator…I suppose I'll come in, then…

"Um," said Percy, who was used to angry Hogwarts parents, fiercely devoted lobbyists, and extremely conceited men. He was not used to slender, willowy women wearing polka-dot robes and a headdress decorated with what appeared to be moth wings.

Peering down at his list, he determined that this bizarre person standing in front of him was likely Luna Lovegood, who wanted to discuss the Rotfang Conspiracy.

"So, Ms. Lovegood," he said. "What can I do for you today?"

"Well," she said. "I suppose we ought to talk about those orthodontists…

* * *

That evening, Percy came home and found Audrey seating on the couch, reading a book. She looked exactly like a normal human being.

Silently, he went up and kissed her.

"Long day at work?" she asked.

"There's nothing like a good dose of another woman to make a man appreciate his wife," he said, and collapsed next to her. He hoped he never had to talk about enchanted floss ever again.


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: **I** know from the stats that there are people reading this... so, yay! Review? Please?**

* * *

Pairing Diversity Prompt: Bribe

* * *

"Come on, get up!" Ginny tugged back the quilt, revealing Gabrielle's slender form. Her honey-golden hair spread across the pillow, her long, tan legs curled up, only partially covered by her lacy nightgown.

"Mm," mumbled Gabrielle. "Eet ees too early. Let me sleep."

"I'm making chocolate chip pancakes," teased Ginny.

Gabrielle opened one bright-blue eye. "Are you trying to bribe me?"

"Oui," said Ginny, smiling.

Gabrielle opened the other eye. "Perhaps you should bribe me with somezing else," she suggested.

"Oh?" said Ginny, perching on the edge of the bed. "Like what?"

Gabrielle reached out and pulled Ginny onto the bed, shifting closer so that they were lying face to face. "You don't have any ideas?" said Gabrielle.

Ginny smiled. Gabrielle moved closer.

_Perhaps_, thought Ginny, as their lips met, _the pancakes could wait._


	20. Chapter 20

Diversity Pairings Prompt: Meticulously

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**AN: Thank you for your reviews! They're wonderful to receive! I love you guys! *Does happy dance.* By the way, feel free to request pairings. Seriously. I wrote Drinny. I wrote Ginnielle. I wrote many pairings that I do not normally read, write, or ship. I will (I promise) write whatever pairing you request. If you request Drarry, I will write you Drarry. If you request Huna, I will write you Huna. If you request Snarry, I will cry, because I do not understand Snarry, but then I will write you Snarry. Seriously. **

* * *

There was something about Lavender, something about the way she meticulously arranged every object in their dormitory, that awoke Parvati's curiosity. Here was a girl who had a place for everything. What would her place be for Parvati?

Best friend, it turned out. Advisor. Shoulder to cry on. Cheerleader. Alcohol-for-breakups provider.

Parvati was many things to Lavender, but Lavender never knew what she was to Parvati.


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: For ****_ ._**

* * *

**Written for the Dialogue Prompt Challenge. My prompt was: "Are you sure?" "For the billionth time, yes!" "The twentieth, but okay."**

* * *

Ginny stared into the mirror.

She was feeling rather anxious about her dress. Did green actually look good on her? She knew it would please Blaise, but—

"Gin?"

She spun around. Blaise was leaning against her doorway, wearing his "semi-formal" robes of pure gold, which seemed to shimmer and swirl every time he moved.

"Hey," she said, nervously. _Does he like the dress?_

"Whoa there," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Who is this unbelievably hot chick in my bedroom?"

Ginny grinned, relieved, before retaliating, "You mean _our _bedroom."

"As of yesterday," he pointed out. "Furthermore, don't remind me of that fact, or we won't make it out of the house tonight."

"Would that be such a bad thing?" teased Ginny.

Blaise grinned. "Not in the slightest. But, seriously. I never thought Slytherin green could look so great on a Gryffindor chick."

"Don't get too cocky," she retorted. "I'm still a Gryffindor. But that doesn't mean I'm going to wear red. It looks horrible with my hair."

"Please," he responded. "You'd look gorgeous in a burlap sack, even if it was flaming orange."

"Where exactly do you find flaming orange burlap sacks?"

"Oh, I have my ways."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "So, are we actually going to leave?"

"Oh, yes, the wedding," said Blaise, sitting down on the bed. "Astoria and Draco, our two little lovebirds. You do know that you're going to be the only Gryffindor there, right?"

"You know," said Ginny, "you've pointed that out so many times, I'm starting to think you're a little embarrassed that you're bringing me." She folded her arms across her chest.

Blaise got to his feet. "Gin, don't be ridiculous," he said. "They're my friends, and I want you to meet them. But they're also total gits, and I don't want them to hurt you."

"I can handle them," said Ginny.

"Are you sure?"

"For the millionth time, yes!"

"The twentieth," said Blaise, grinning, "but okay."

"You're insufferable," said Ginny, but she let him kiss her, anyways.

"Come on," said Blaise, breaking the kiss and grabbing her hand. "Let's go show them what a Weasley and a Zabini can do!"

Ginny squeezed his hand. "I love you."

"I know," he replied.

Ginny punched him.

"Just kidding," he said, and squeezed her hand. "I love you, too."


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: Okay, so… this is a Drarry. I don't know why. It just happened. Anyways, there's going to be the Drarry, and then I'm going to spam you with a bunch of chapters, and then I'm going to write all the ones you request (currently, that's a Snilly for Creampuff21.) The reason you are being spammed with chapters is that I have a bunch of them already written and I want the online version to be up-to-date. So, yay, there we go!**

* * *

Pairing Diversity Prompt: Casualty

* * *

There would be casualties. Draco knew this. There were two wives to think of, four children, two reputations.

There would be casualties. They both knew this. They couldn't do what they were doing without destroying something else. It was too passionate, too like raging fire, burning up everything it touched. But beautiful, too, the golden-orange flames. Beautiful.

As lay in bed, awake, sometimes Draco would turn over and watch the other. Hair the color of raven's wings. Emerald eyes closed.

He would trace his finger lightly across the lightning-shaped scar, down, across the perfect lips, down the smoothness of the neck, onto the chest, and he would rest his hand there, lightly, over the heart.

Yes, there would be casualties.

(He could not have cared less.)


	23. Chapter 23

Pairing Diversity Prompt: Nerves

"Oh Merlin. Oh god. Oh god. Why did I do this? Why in the name of Merlin did I agree to do this?"

"Dude," said Ron. "If you're having second thoughts, I'll kill you."

"I would say the same thing," said Hermione, appearing in the doorway, "but I don't think Ginny needs Ron _or _me to take down Harry."

"Shouldn't you be with the bride?" asked Ron.

"The bride is here!" announced Ginny's voice, from behind Hermione. "What's this I hear about second thoughts?"

Harry moaned. "Oh no."

"Hermione, blindfold him," instructed Ginny.

"Wait, what?"

"It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding!" exclaimed Hermione, tying a scarf over Harry's eyes. "Come on, Ron, let's leave them to it."

Their footsteps faded, and the door closed. Harry heard the rustle of silk as Ginny moved. When she next spoke, she was startlingly close to him, her voice quiet.

"You're not really having second thoughts, are you?"

He was startled to hear the uncertainty in her voice.

"Of course not," he said. "I'm just nervous. But I'm not having second thoughts. I'm marrying the most beautiful, strong, amazing woman in the entire world. Why would I have second thoughts?"

He thought he could almost feel her smile. "Positive?"

"Positive."

She drew a little closer. "Do you think it's bad luck for the groom and the bride to kiss before the wedding?"

"Do you honestly think I'm going to say yes?"

Ginny wrapped her arms around him. "I think we can save the _saying yes_ part for later, don't you?"

"Indeed," whispered Harry, as his lips met hers. "I do."


	24. Chapter 24

**AN: Too weird? Let me know!**

* * *

Pairing Diversity Prompt: Scrutiny

* * *

The first time Parvati fell under her scrutiny was at the Yule Ball. Rejected by Harry, bored with the boys from Beaxbatons, she had wandered out into the garden and found _her._

She was bored, too. Roger Davies wasn't that great of a kisser, and there was nothing interesting about him. She left him in the rosebushes and went to find her own entertainment. That was how she found Parvati.

Parvati _felt _it: the way Fleur scrutinized her, taking in every detail, every tiny flaw, reading her like a book, reading the rejection and boredom in her eyes, the rejection and boredom that matched perfectly the emotions in Fleur's eyes. Fleur made Parvati feel exposed, naked, like all of her secrets had been revealed.

But maybe Fleur wasn't taking in Parvati's flaws, after all, because with a tiny flick of her head, she gestured for Parvati to follow her into the rosebushes.

In the time that followed, the time of kisses in the darkness, when Fleur whispered "What's your name?" and Parvati responded "Names don't matter." In that time, they grew lost in each other, examining every inch of the other until they knew each other by heart.

So it was no surprise when, years later, at Fleur's wedding, they felt each other's scrutiny, searching to see which one of them had changed more. They did not speak, that time, when they met, briefly, in the darkness of the garden, and felt, for barely a minute, what they had felt three years before.

No, they did not speak, that time.

They had already established that names did not matter.

There was nothing more to say.


	25. Chapter 25

Pairing Diversity Prompt: Jester

* * *

People used her, and she was used to it.

People laughed at her, and she was used to it.

People treated them like they were worth nothing—the slave and the jester, to be mistreated and laughed at. The slave and the jester, together but not together, locked away in the royal court, surrounded by kings and queens.

Kings and queens used her.

Kings and queens laughed at her.

But she didn't care. (Because she was Cho and she had Luna.)

And she didn't care. (Because she was Luna and she had Cho.)

And together, they could both be queens.


	26. Chapter 26

Pairing Diversity Prompt: Oblivious

* * *

It made Ginny furious.

How Luna be so _blind?_ How could she not see it? How could she not notice the way Ginny looked at her?

It terrified Ginny. At times, she was certain everyone could see it—everyone but Luna. And Luna was the only one Ginny cared about.

Maybe Luna was too oblivious to fall in love, thought Ginny. Maybe she would never notice the looks Ginny gave her, the way she deliberately brushed against her, loving the cool feeling of her skin.

Maybe it wasn't meant to be.


	27. Chapter 27

Pairing Diversity Prompt: Translucent

Also written for the Secret Battle Competition. (I used all of the prompts for my round, but I'm not going to say what they are, because... reasons.)

* * *

They met for the first time at the top of the Astronomy Tower.

He liked to go there to watch the heavens blaze above him, imagine that there were angels looking down on him, trying to help him make his choices.

But that night, there was an angel standing next to him.

They had seen each other, of course, before that night, and every time their eyes had met, he had felt something. A buzz. A spark.

And she had felt it, too. But they had never spoken to each other, because he was Regulus Black, and she was Alice Faraworth, and she was a Gryffindor and he was a Slytherin, and it wouldn't work, and they knew this. It wouldn't work.

But that night, she came up and found him, and they sat there, together, under the stars and the angels, and they spoke for hours and hours.

She made him feel translucent, like a ghost. He felt that she could see through him, see into him, and see all his thoughts and doubts and fears, all the wrong things he had ever done, and the scarceness of the right things.

And then, when he looked at her, he felt like he was looking at an angel. She had not done anything wrong. He was certain of it.

Later that night, he was not so certain. Surely no angel had a fire like that inside of her, a fire that made her lips passionate against his, a fire that would not burn out or expire, a fire that could not be quenched, a fire that made her weave her fingers through his hair and pull him close to her.

But he didn't mind, because kissing her was like drinking butterbeer. It never made you drunk enough to forget all the wrong things that had happened, but it made you drunk enough to know that they were there and not care.

So he kissed her, and he didn't care, and he kissed her, and he didn't care, and she kissed him, and he didn't care, he didn't care, he didn't _care _that they had already chosen different paths, he didn't _care _that tonight was one night and there would be no other nights to follow, and he didn't _care _that she would never be Alice Black.

(And when she became Alice Longbottom, he didn't care about that, either, because she had realized the darkness inside of him and she had stopped loving him and that was okay, it was okay, because he didn't care and he never had and he was never going to.)

No, he didn't care, that night, when he realized she was not an angel. There was only one part, a small part of him, which knew some tiny but significant truth:

She had been an angel, before that night. She had always made the right choices, until that night on the astronomy tower.

(That meant he was the wrong choice.)

She must have known that, he realized, years later, as he stared into pitiless red eyes, saw the slender stick of wood, the flash of green light, and knew that it was over. She must have known.


	28. Chapter 28

Pairing Diversity Prompt: Never

* * *

She would never fall in love.

Why? There was no need for it. She was beautiful and desirable and she could get what she wanted, and she would get it without attachments. There was no one more proud and haughty and unfeeling than her. That's what she thought.

Until she met him.

The she knew the truth. There was no one more proud and haughty and unfeeling than him. He would never, never, never love anyone.

So of course, she fell in love with him.

And he never loved her back.

Bellatrix Lestrange, he called her. Never that infuriating _Bella_, like her husband.

She liked that.

He never told her his name, his true name.

Of course he didn't.

She could have done anything for him, but he would never have loved her back.

Most women want _forever,_ not _never._

Bellatrix Lestrange was not most women.


	29. Chapter 29

Diversity Pairing Prompt: Quail/s/ed

* * *

**AN: Some Snillyness, for Creampuff21. Let me know what you think!**

* * *

He loved her long before he knew what love was. In the dark days, when they were but children and his parents were screaming, when there was no room in the house to spill tears, he found comfort in watching her.

It seemed to him that she was like a drop of sunlight in a dark world. Where she went, light and happiness followed. She did not walk, she danced, and every word she spoke in that sweet, clear voice sounded like a poem.

It took him years and years to work up the courage to speak to her, but when he did, she did not question his strange clothes, his family, his life. She took him as he was, and he loved her even more for it.

But then the Sorting happened, and Lily became friends with Mary MacDonald, and the other Gryffindors, and years flitted past, and rumors began to circulate. Slowly, little cracks began to appear in the ice, everywhere he looked, and he began to fear falling.

They began to argue. At first, he quailed before her fiery temper and fierce green eyes, but time passed and her love faded— if it had even been love, for he did not know. He had never been able to ask her. And then, with one word, one utterance of "Mudblood!" the ice cracked and he fell.

It is a strange death, to freeze and drown at the same time, but he felt it, cold and bitter, the first day Lily Evans would not speak to him. He waited, and waited, and time passed and the rest of the world forgot, but he did not. Every time he cast a Patronus he was reminded of her. He could not bring himself to even think about forgetting her.

_Maybe she hadn't forgotten him._ That was the only thought that comforted him, years later, as he watched the Potter boy get Sorted, the Potter boy with _her _eyes.

He clung to that thought, day and night. _Maybe she hadn't forgotten him. Maybe she hid it well, but she remembered him. Maybe she loved him. Maybe she never loved Potter. Maybe she loved Severus. Maybe she loved him._

Maybe she did, Severus.

Maybe the red-haired girl loved a different dark-haired boy than the one she said she did.

Maybe she loved him.

Maybe she did.


	30. Chapter 30

Pairing Diversity Prompt: Denial

Mix and Match Pairing Competition Prompts: Amazed, Chilly, Tea kettle.

* * *

**AN: Tell me what you think! **

* * *

The tea kettle was whistling. Hastily, Romilda snatched it off the stove, poured the steaming liquid into a small, porcelain cup, and carried it out of the kitchen. Frowning, she realized that she didn't remember who the tea was for. Table six? Table nine?

"That's mine, I think," said a voice.

Surprised, Romilda realized she was standing in front of table one. Then, with an even bigger surprise, she realized she recognized the occupant: a slender woman in her early twenties, with fiery red hair and tearstained brown eyes.

"Ginny Weasley?" she said.

Ginny stared up at her. An expression of sudden realization appeared on her face. "Romilda Vane?'

"Are you all right?" asked Romilda, taking in Ginny's flustered appearance, red eyes, and tangled hair.

Ginny half-smiled. "Divorce negotiations," she said.

"Oh," said Romilda. "I'm sorry."

"Just one year of marriage, too," muttered Ginny, wiping her eyes with her napkin.

Romilda sighed. "I remember when I was all over Harry, too." She laughed a little at the memory. "Merlin, I hated you. But I don't hate you anymore. I've given up on boy-chasing."

"What do you do instead?" asked Ginny curiously.

"Be an outstanding waitress," said Romilda, grinning.

Ginny laughed. "Nothing else?"

"It's a secret," said Romilda.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Now you've made me curious."

Romilda's eyes trailed from Ginny's raised eyebrow to her chocolaty brown eyes, framed by long, curling lashes. She took in Ginny's small, freckled nose, and then her eyes move downwards, landing on Ginny's lips. They were perfectly curved and parted ever so slightly, and she was wearing lipstick.

"Maybe I could let you in on the secret," Romilda found herself saying. "But not here."

"Lead the way," said Ginny, getting to her feet.

Leaving the cup of tea abandoned on the table, the two girls made their way out the back door of the small café.

"Brr," said Ginny, shivering. The November wind was blowing, and the day was chilly. "I hope this is a good secret."

"Are you ready for the big reveal?" asked Romilda.

Ginny smiled. "Very ready."

Before Romilda could lose her nerve, she stepped forward, wrapped her arms around Ginny, and kissed her on the lips.

Instantly, Ginny gave into the kiss, relaxing into Romilda's arms. For a moment, she forgot about everything else in the world.

Then she remembered what was happening and pulled away. "What are you _doing_?" she demanded.

"Showing you what I do instead of chasing boys," said Romilda.

"Well, no thank you," said Ginny, folding her arms across her chest.

Romilda rolled her eyes. "Please. You know you enjoyed that."

"I did not!"

"You're in denial."

"I can prove it to you!"

"Really?" said Romilda. "How about this? I'll kiss you again, and if you don't feel anything at all, you win."

"Go ahead," said Ginny.

Romilda took a step closer.

Ginny swallowed, hard.

Romilda took another step closer. Slowly, very slowly, she placed her hands on Ginny's hips and pulled Ginny towards her, until their faces were less than an inch apart.

"You're sure about this?" murmured Romilda.

Ginny tore her eyes away from Romilda's lips. "Of course I am."

Romilda moved closer, and her lips found Ginny's.

For a moment, Ginny tried to resist, tried to ignore the softness of Romilda's lips against hers. Then she realized it was useless.

She was enjoying herself.

When at last they broke apart, Ginny found that she was grinning.

"So? The result?" said Romilda. But she already knew the answer.

"I should be amazed," said Ginny. "The great Romilda Vane gave up guys in favor of girls."

"_Should_ be amazed?" said Romilda.

"That's the thing," said Ginny. "I'm not amazed. Maybe because I enjoyed myself too much."

Romilda grinned. "So you do like my secret."

"Best secret ever," said Ginny. And after a moment, she reached out and took Romilda's hand.


	31. Chapter 31

_Pairing Diversity Prompt: If you're the one to cut me, I will bleed forever_

_19,000 Prompts, 500 Words, One Week Challenge prompt: cry_

* * *

**AN: As suggested by ****_Bob The Other Zombie_**

* * *

Dean doesn't want to cry.

He has a right to, of course. It's his best friend's funeral. But it hurts him, hurts him so much, that he only has the right of a _friend_ to cry at Seamus's funeral.

No one knows that they were more than friends. More than best friends.

Seamus wants the right to cry as a boyfriend would, cry as a fiancée would, but he doesn't have that right, because no one knows.

And at the same time, Dean doesn't want to cry, because Seamus wouldn't want him to. Seamus never cried. Seamus hated funerals. He liked weddings. Dean bites his lip at the thought of weddings and twists the ring on his finger. The tears sting his eyes, but he chokes them back.

The crowd begins to thin. Neville and Luna, arm in arm, come by and touch him gently on the shoulder. They alone may have guessed, for Neville was there to watch it happen and Luna— Luna sees everything. But they say nothing, and he is grateful.

Finally, everyone is gone. He approaches the casket and stares down at Seamus's face. It's wrong to see Seamus dressed up like this, unsmiling. Seamus is—_was_—always smiling.

Dean reaches into his pocket, pulls out a crumpled piece of paper, and clears his throat. "Hey, Seamus," he says, softly. "I have my vows here. It's just a rough draft, but I thought you would like to hear them." Quickly, Dean brushes his eyes with the back of his hand. He takes a deep breath and begins to read.

"I met Seamus when I was eleven years old. We were both so nervous about starting Hogwarts. Seamus taught me so many things about the Wizarding world, Quidditch, and friendship. He's my best friend and so much more."

Dean took another deep breath. "That's the speech part. Now for the vows."

He closed his eyes, opened them, and started to read.

"I, Dean Thomas, take you, Seamus Finnigan, to be my friend, lover, and husband. In times of darkness, I shall be your light. When you are weary, I shall give you rest. When you are lonely, I shall be your friend. When you weep, I shall dry your tears and tell you to rejoice, for you are the one who taught me to be joyous. When the lightning strikes, I shall shelter you as you have sheltered me. Without you, I am nothing. With you, I am everything. If you are the one to cut me, I will bleed forever. If you are the one to lead, I will follow, and if you are the one to follow, I will lead you true." This was the part Dean had been dreading, but he could not stop now. He wiped his eyes and continued. "This is my promise of love to you, now, forever, and always, until death do you part."

The sky was gray overhead, as though the sun was never going to shine again.

"Until death do you part," repeated Dean, his voice gentle. He released the scrap of paper he was holding in his hand and watched as it fluttered into the hole and landed on the coffin.

"Bye, Seamus," he whispered, and he turned and walked away.

He did not look back.

He still had not cried.


	32. Chapter 32

_Pairing Diversity Prompt: Macaw_

_19,000 Prompts, 500 Words, One Week Challenge prompt: goodbye_

* * *

**AN: As suggested by ****_Bob The Other Zombie. _**

* * *

The sunlight was streaming through the curtains when Fred awoke.

For a moment, he lay on the bed, taking in the sunny yellow walls, the lacy curtains, and the off-white furniture. He sighed. He loved their bedroom, even with Hermione's excessive tidiness. He loved the curtains Mrs. Granger had sent for her daughter. He loved their Saturday-morning tradition of raspberry muffins and milk for breakfast.

He didn't want to leave.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," said Hermione, appearing in the doorway. Her hair was loose and spilling over her shoulders, and she was still in her pajamas.

Fred smiled at her. "Good morning, beautiful."

She came over and kissed him on the forehead. "The muffins are ready."

"Mm," he said, but his smile faded at the thought that he had to leave in a few hours.

Hermione noticed the crease in his forehead. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want to leave," he said.

"Then don't," she replied.

"I have to," he said. "I'm needed in the rainforest."

"Remind me again what you're doing there," said Hermione, climbing onto the bed and nestling up against him.

"There's a new type of Billywig that would be great in these new candies I'm developing," he said. He pulled Hermione closer and rested his lips on her forehead. "I just hate saying goodbye to you," he murmured.

Hermione lifted a hand and ran it through his hair. "I know," she said softly. "But the rainforest calls. Bring me back a macaw."

"A what?"

"It's a type of bird that lives in the rainforest," said Hermione. She shifted so that her head was resting on his chest.

"I see," he said. He kissed the top of her head.

"Muffins?" said Hermione.

"Muffins," he agreed.

They sat up. On impulse, Fred wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the lips. She kissed him back, her lips warm and soft against his, and she put her arms around his neck, holding him close.

After a minute or two, they broke apart.

"Not goodbye," said Fred. "To be continued."

"To be continued," agreed Hermione.

And with that promise in mind, they went to get their muffins.


	33. Chapter 33

_Pairing Diversity Prompt: Nuzzle_

* * *

**AN: Hello, darlings! So, I'm glad you all liked the Seamus/Dean chapter, even though it was sad. Thankyouthankyouthankyou for your reviews! Seriously, I love getting them so much. And remember, you can force me to write pairings any time you feel like it. I'll even do ones I've done before, just for you, 'cause I love you all. Anyways, here's some Teddoire cuteness to cheer you up after the Seamus/Dean. (And the Fremione, even though that one was happy-ish.)**

* * *

Victoire had always liked the roof of the Burrow. Even when she was just four or five years old, she liked to grab her broom, sneak around to the back of the house, and fly up to the top of the house

Lying on the hot tiles, staring up at the blueness of the sky, she was happy with the knowledge that no one could ever find her. Her mother was always annoyed when Victoire vanished for an hour or two every time they visited, but Victoire didn't mind. She loved the roof too much to let her mother's complaints get to her.

She was certain that no one knew about her secret hiding place.

But one sunny June day, Teddy found her there.

"So this is where you always vanish to!" he said, landing lightly on the roof.

"Don't tell the others," said Victoire. Dom, Rose, James, and the rest were her cousins, and she loved them, of course, but sometimes she just needed an escape from being the oldest. Well, the oldest except for Teddy.

"Don't worry," said Teddy, smiling at her. "I won't. I promise." He lay down next to her, staring up at the puffy white clouds, drifting above them.

Victoire knew he wouldn't tell anyone. Teddy always kept his promises. Even though he wasn't _technically _a cousin, he was her favorite of the whole Weasley-Potter clan. Unlike other boys, he was friendly and sweet. He helped Aunt Hermione bake pies, told Lily and Hugo bedtime stories, and he always kept secrets.

"It's so beautiful," whispered Victoire.

"Yeah," said Teddy, but he wasn't looking at the sky. He was looking at her. "But not as beautiful as you."

Victoire sat bolt upright and stared at him. "What?"

He sat up, too, and smiled at her crookedly. "Metamorphmaguses are immune to Veela powers, you know."

"I know," she said. "But—

"But I still think you're beautiful," he said. And then he leaned in and kissed her.

For a long moment, she kissed him back. Then she came to her senses and pulled away. "Teddy!" she exclaimed. "You and I— we're not— we can't—

"Yes, we can," he said firmly. He grabbed his broom and cast her one last crooked smile. "Think about it, okay?" And then he was gone.

She was seventeen at the time.

Two years later, she lay on the roof once again, Teddy by her side. The sun had set, and as they lay there, staring at the sky, the stars began to emerge, like fireflies appearing on a warm summer night.

Teddy nuzzled her on the cheek. "Hey," he whispered.

"Hey," she whispered back.

"What are you thinking?"

She stared up at the heavens, and smiled.

"I'm thinking that I love you." She rolled over to her side, so she was facing him. She thought she could feel his smile in the darkness.

"I was thinking the same thing," he said softly.

And then, just like he had done two years before, she moved closer and kissed him.

Victoire felt like her heart was singing.

It was decided, she thought.

The roof was _definitely _her favorite place at the Burrow.


	34. Chapter 34

_Pairing Diversity Prompt: Dangerous_

**AN: Hello! I know, I haven't updated in FOREVER. Sorry :( But I'm here now! I'd love a review or two, since the autumn weather is making me rather melancholy. **

**Hopefully the next few chapters will follow quickly. Anyways, farewell!**

Alone in his room, Lorcan gazed into the mirror. His hair and eyes were dark, dark brown, just like his father. Lysander was the pale one, with dirty blonde hair and large blue eyes and a mysterious vacancy, just like their mother.

Lorcan ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make it look messy, trying to make himself look more like James. He sighed. James Sirius Potter could have any girl in the school. Lorcan doubted his own ability to get a single date.

But he didn't care, because he didn't like girls, anyways.

Then again, neither did James.

Lorcan lowered his hand from his hair and smiled at himself in the mirror. He closed his eyes and remembered.

_They had their arms wrapped around each other. Lorcan had never felt a tighter embrace. _

_James's lips were warm against his own, and as they kissed, Lorcan felt that there was no tomorrow, that nothing mattered but the togetherness of their lips and their arms, holding each other close. _

Lorcan opened his eyes. It had been just a week ago, but it felt like a lifetime. James was a sixth year and a Gryffindor; Lorcan was a fifth year and a Hufflepuff. They didn't get to see each other, except on the weekends.

Lorcan missed James during the week. He missed his arms, strong and comforting, and the way James held him as they kissed. He missed the way James smiled at him crookedly. But most of all, he missed the feeling he got when he was with James. Wild. Free. Daring.

James made him feel dangerous, and he liked it.


	35. Chapter 35

_Pairing Diversity Prompt: Butterfly kisses_

People often wondered why Hermione Granger didn't end up in Ravenclaw.

Padma Patil wondered more than anyone.

Padma was smart. She knew that. She was the smartest girl in her year— except for one person.

Hermione Granger.

They were both dedicated to their studies— dedicated enough to return for their seventh year. Because so few students chose to return for one more year, Padma and Hermione had every single class together.

They began to spend their afternoons and weekends together, reading and talking. They talked about Arithmancy, Transfiguration, politics, the weather, shoes, Hermione's breakup with Ron, Padma's breakup with Dean, celebrity gossip, Padma's new haircut, lip balm, and, one afternoon, butterfly kisses.

"_What _kisses?" asked Hermione, when the subject came up.

"Butterfly kisses!" said Padma. "You don't know what those are?"

Looking bemused, Hermione shook her head.

"It's when you flutter your eyelashes against someone else's," said Padma, laughing. "Like this, see." She leaned in and fluttered her eyelashes against Hermione's. After a second, Hermione did the same thing.

Padma suddenly realized how close together their faces were. Hermione's milk-chocolate eyes stared into Parvati's dark-chocolate ones. Not wanting to, but knowing that she had to, Padma quickly withdrew, pulling back from Hermione with an embarrassed laugh. From the heat of her cheeks, she knew that she was blushing.

Then she saw something that made her feel just a little bit better.

Hermione was blushing, too.


	36. Chapter 36

_Pairing Diversity Prompt: Purple_

Lucy had always dreamed of being a princess. She would imagine herself twirling around a glorious ballroom in the arms of a handsome prince, wearing a beautiful dress— a purple dress, of course. With her mother's blonde hair and violet eyes, nothing became her better than purple.

And yet, no matter how hard she tried to believe that her dream would come true, she couldn't. There was no one out there for her, she thought. She didn't fit into the Wizarding world _or _the Muggle world. She was nothing but a Squib, surrounded by magic yet unable to use it.

And then she met Lysander— a wizard, but unlike any other. Dreamy. Silly. Sweet. Kind.

When she asked him if he would go to a Muggle school dance with her, she was afraid he would say no.

But he didn't.

He kissed her on the cheek and said "Anything for you, Luce."

Smiling, she closed her eyes and imagined it: her and Lysander, twirling through a school gymnasium.

She needed to find a purple dress.


	37. Chapter 37

_Pairing Diversity Prompt: Eerie._

_Challenges/Comps: Pairing Diversity Boot Camp Challenge, The Great Maze competition. _

Alone in her house, Narcissa wishes, not for the first time, that she had a young child. She misses the days she spent with Draco, blowing bubbles in the garden and reading aloud story books. Now, with Draco off at Hogwarts and Lucius working all the time, she often finds herself alone, with nothing to do. Like today.

She wanders around the house for an hour or so, wondering when Lucius will be back from his important luncheon with the Minister of Magic. The house is eerie and silent. She longs for the laugh of a child, the pattering of small feet running down the hallway.

Finally, it becomes too much for her to bear. She throws on a jacket, grabs her wand, and twirls into oblivion, re-appearing in her sister's house. It's rare for her to seek out Bella's company, but today, she's desperate.

Like her own, the house seems empty and silent. "Bella?" she calls out. "Hello? Is anyone home?"

She thinks that she hears a voice from somewhere up above and hurries up the staircase, eager for company. Walking down the hallway that leads to her sister's room, she is certain she hears voices. She lifts her hand to knock on the door, hears someone murmur "Are you sure you didn't hear anything?" and freezes.

Lucius.

She would know his voice anywhere.

On the other side of the door, Bellatrix laughs. "Of course I'm sure," she says. "There is no one here but the two of us." And then, unmistakably, comes the sound of kissing.

Narcissa closes her eyes and takes a deep, shuddering breath.

Then she turns and walks away, down the hall.

She will not be pitied.

She will tell no one.

She will not play the forgotten wife.

She will return to her house, her empty, eerie house, filled with ghosts and silence.

She will not be pitied.

She is Narcissa Malfoy.


End file.
